


Iris

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ableist Language, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Chaptered, Character Death, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Gen, Heavy Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character(s), Multi, Sadstuck, Self-Harm, Swearing, There IS a storyline I promise, Unrequited Love, p e o p l e d i e, people die, unclear death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2160429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Yeah you can't fight the tears that ain't comin',</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Or the moment of truth in your lies</i>
  <br/>
  <i>When everything feels like the movies</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive</i>
</p><p><i>And I don't want the world to see me</i><br/><i>'Cause I don't think that they'd understand</i><br/><i>When everything's made to be broken</i><br/><i>I just want you to know who I am"</i><br/>—"Iris," Goo Goo Dolls<br/> <br/>Time takes care of everything. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Neon Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm gonna sadstuck a bit for a while. largely told from roxy's perspective. constructive criticism and ideas for filler chapters (or major plot points) are extremely beneficial to the writer, so although i already know exactly what i'm gonna do with the story, your input is extremely valued! 
> 
> also ye i know that the color n stuff is like really bad right now i'll fix it later

You lean over the keyboard  of your computer, smiling to yourself. Another weekend with your mother gone, another weekend filled with green, blue, and orange (your favorite) text filling the monitor as you sip an ever-present drink on the desk in a blissfully dubious state. 

At the moment, it's a strawberry margarita. Not terribly alcoholic, if not for the fact that this is your ninth drink in the evening and at present you are indeed very, _very_ drunk. 

Though Dirk had told you that he'd be busy, your addled brain disregards that and you quickly send him a message over Pesterchum. 

 

\---tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timeausTestified [TT]---

TG: heeeey

TG: durky

TG: badinkadirk

TG: dorkus

TG: diiiiii-striiiii

 

You sigh and pout, then shoot him another round of messages. 

 

TG: dirk pls i know ur there

TG: dirky do u nerf me to call jakey + janey n be mean abou u n stuff?

TG: di imma do it....!!!

TT: Roxy, I'm busy right now, as you know.

TG: omg *squels* y replipled

TG: *replid shit

TG: guess haat dirky

TT: You're drunk again, aren't you?

TG: ok myb but thts not important

TT: Yes it is, Roxy. It had been almost five weeks, for Christ's fucking sake.

TG: ur such the spoilspurpt

TG: besides tgat

TG: i have

TG: a thing

TG: 2 tell u

TT: Hm?

TG: ily dirky c:

TT: I know, Rox.

TG: no i mean i luuuuv uuu

TT: ....I know....

TG: it makes me sad that ur with another boy

TG: wait hah im not a boy

TG: mby if i was a boy youd like me bacck

TG: meh u know wut i mean

TG: i just wish we could... yknow

TT: Roxy, you're drunk. Please get some rest. 

TT: Do you need me to call Jane to calm you down?

TG: nah im good

TG: me? drunk? nope haha

TG: dont worry bout me

TT: I _am_ worried about you.

 

You lean back in your chair. You're suddenly sleepy, so very sleepy. It couldn't hurt to rest for a tiny bit, right? You'll wake right up. Five minutes. You dim the monitor and close your eyes. 

 

TT: Roxy?

TT: Roxy. 

TT: You fucking fell asleep, didn't you. 

TT: Ugh.

 

\---timeausTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]---

 

\---

You wake up the next morning with a terrible headache, angry at yourself for getting drunk and then falling asleep. You glance at the monitor of your computer, blinking and grimacing at the light emanating from it. Well at least it's dimmed. 

You nudge the mouse, switching it from a lockscreen to the screen you were apparently open to last night (which you have no recollection of). As you do so, you notice your spilt martini, the reddish liquid slop staining your desk. 

Oh fantastic. That was mahogany and Mom's gonna kill you. 

Nonetheless, you switch out of that train of thoughts and continue the task at hand, a notification alerting you of ten new messages on Pesterchum. 

Gulp. You glance at your contacts list and see one from Jake, five from Jane, and four from Dirk. 

Shit shit shit what did you do. 

You open Dirk's window first, fingers shaking slightly. 

 

TT: Roxy, come on. Answer me. 

TT: Do I need to fucking call Jane again? That'd be a hell of a lot of explaining to do. 

TT: You know how she'd react. And frankly, I don't want to get into that shit. 

TT: I'm gonna call Jane.

 

You scroll up quickly, reading the conversation over. In addition to those four messages, you missed the four before. When you finish reading, against your better judgement you bang your head on the desk. Which only serves to worsen your hangover. Damn, you need aspirin. 

Now you're just plain pissed at yourself. You told yourself, no, you promised yourself that Dirk was off limits. You promised yourself that you wouldn't mention your feelings towards him again, especially now that he has Jake. And you just fucking went ahead and got wasted and probably made him feel like shit for it. Not to mention worried about you. It doesn't help that he lives fairly nearby, but not close enough to actually come over. Canada. And the others, too! Your friends! They probably felt so helpless, overseas... And. You had been getting better and then suddenly...

Suddenly everything began to fall apart. 

Your name is Roxy Lalonde and you're officially screwed. 


	2. Broken Reassurances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for violence, death and underage drinking.

Roxy sat at the table staring at her hands for a long time before slowly rising to her feet and padding down the short hallway to her overstuffed bathroom. She grabbed the aspirin bottle, took one too many, and debated whether or not she should wash it down with vodka.

She decided against it. Look where drinking had gotten her, after all.

As she waited for the medicine to kick in, she lay down on her bed, her still-running (When was it ever _not_ ) computer dinging yet again with more notifications.

The blonde groaned into her pillow. She thought she had turned sound notifications off.

Eventually the noise became too annoying and she sighed and got up, checking Pesterchum once more.

\---golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]---  
GT: Hello chum!  
GT: I trust youre feeling better now sober than you did last night?  
GT: Gave us all a mighty scare you did!  
TG: yeah hi jakey sorry about that i was goin to reply earlier but i was still not “feelin” too good + this is stupid  
TG: sorry for the scare n all  
GT: Mate, its certainly alright.  
GT: Were just… all worried about you roxy.  
GT: It had been three weeks right?  
TG: five  
TG: five weeks in two days  
GT: I do extend my sympathies.  
TG: its fine whatevs yo  
TG: gotta get some shit done + take care of this headache 2  
\---tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering golgothasTerror[GT]---

Roxy just really didn’t want to talk to Jake at the moment.

\---gutsyGumshoe [GG] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]--  
GG: Roxy, listen. I know it’s not been easy for you, but I daresay you’re not trying hard enough!  
GG: By Jove, _we’re here to help you._  
GG: Just… Take care of yourself, alright?  
\---gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]---  
TG: im trying buT ITS ToO HAR D

Roxy just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry until there were no tears left, but as much as she tried, she just couldn’t.

She was too used to the pain, her expression a poker face. A hardened mask she had perfected a long time ago, one that blocked others from seeing that there was something wrong. A mask to protect her.

Protect her from others caring.

She sometimes wondered why she cared about others so much when the last thing she wanted was for someone to care about her.

Her mother did and look where that got her.

Roxy thought back. How did this mess ever come to be?

She supposed it started when she was fourteen. Almost fifteen, a little freshman in a little school and hanging out with a girl named Aria (queen bitch at the time, as stereotypical as they get) at her house. She was popular then, having physically matured slightly faster than the other girls at the time.

Her mom wasn’t home. Her mom was never home, always at her dumb stupid idiotic useless book writer meetings for stuck-up prentiititious pretentious whatever rich people.

Her mom was a bad mother, she thought.

Roxy and Aria played video games for a while before starting to rant to each other about how bad each’s respective caretaker was at doing her job.

The blonde casually remarked to her friend that her mom was so terrible at being a mother that she left all the liquor cabinets unlocked, like some kind of… Some kind of challenge. Aria perked up at that and in a tone just as casual, replied that they should take up that challenge. Roxy thought she was kidding.

Two hours later they were drunk calling Aria’s endless list of exes and laughing much too hard.

It was a Thursday, so Aria went home around ten thirty.

Roxy’s mom didn’t show up.

The next day at school, Aria and her gang ignored Roxy.

Roxy’s mom still wasn’t home.

It went on like that for a while, Roxy calling her mother’s cell and getting no reply. Her “friends” ignoring, scorning, laughing at her openly, their glares like daggers in her back and their bubblegum-painted grins poison to her.

It got worse.

Rebecca and Sady accused her of stealing a ring of Sady’s. She didn’t. They beat her up anyways behind the mart half a block from school.

She went home and accidentally passed herself by in a mirror, eyeing the split lip and the black eye and the gash on her forehead and the bruised cheek, bruised everything and suddenly she was in the kitchen reaching for a cabinet and no no no she said not again but suddenly the cap was off and the bottle tipped back up, up, pouring dry, the fiery liquid scorching her throat and making her forget again.

Roxy got a call the next day that made her blood run cold.

Police. A tired voice explaining that her mother was in the forest, hiking for inspiration, when she neared the edge of a gorge and fell into the river, the fast current sweeping her away. They never did find the body.

So Roxy drank until everything went numb.

And so it continued.

She moved in with her grandmother, but the woman was old and didn’t have much time left. Her vision and hearing was bad and she was always asleep. Vodka was like water to Roxy.

When Roxy was barely eighteen, her grandmother was gone too.

Roxy returned to the present and groaned. Funny how when you wanted to cry most you just couldn’t. And her precious mahogany table. Mom would kill her.

(She liked to pretend her Mom was with her even though she knew she was gone)

Ding.

She checked her Pesterchum.

\---timeausTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]---  
TT: Make room in your apartment for one more starting tomorrow.  
TG: whys that?  
TT: I’ll be staying for a little while until you get better.  
TG: …

She wasn’t a goddamn high schooler any more, a stupid-ass partying teen that got drunk off her ass because it was fun. This was stupid, her friends shouldn’t have to take care of her. She was an adult for Christ’s sake, an adult that should have been at college but wasn’t because she was constantly drunk and now she was broke, too.

She got drunk so that she could forget how everything used to be.

So she was only tipsy, and not gnostalgic.

*nostalgic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for using an oc, but it'll make sense later. Aria isn't really used again.
> 
> Also I found some errors so I changed the first chapter just a tiny bit and tweaked the second.
> 
> (Rose no longer exists. I removed her for plot-hole reasons.)


	3. Sober

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roxy cleans up a bit. Preparing for Dirk's stay because she can hardly tell him no.

Roxy stood up quickly, attempting to formulate a plan of action for cleaning the house. Since she knew Dirk wouldn't take no for an answer.

Actually, she knew she was just being selfish. A small part of her secretly liked the attention she was getting from him, not that she got drunk for that purpose or anything. Hell no. She wanted to get better, but she also wanted to drink. Just like she wanted Dirk to be happy, but she also wanted him. Roxy was more or less pissed as a wet cat at herself for still longing for him though. It was fairly obvious he was gay, in the homos with Jake, and she was acting immature about it. Bringing everyone else down.

God damn it, what was wrong with her?! 

Roxy sighed. She would start by cleaning up the kitchen, then the bedrooms, living area, and bathroom last. Mostly because bathrooms are bathrooms.

Her apartment wasn't exactly large, but it was big enough to be livable. It was on the third floor, so her neighbors lived below her, meaning she had to be rather quiet because the floorboards were old.

Not exactly easy while drunk.

The front door opened up into the living room, which had once been rather nice and was now littered with beat-up pieces of furniture from thrift shops. The highlight of the display was a mostly decent leather couch that she had picked up and was rather proud of. 

As one journeyed down the hallway, they would hit the two bedrooms on either side, slightly staggered so the doors didn't open up directly into each other. Roxy's room was messy as usual, with an unmade bed, various incomplete sewing projects, and her gaming console strewn across the floor. In addition to empty bottles of liquor she'd have to clean up. Roxy ducked her head under the bed. Holy shit, there were a lot more there than she had originally thought. The blonde blinked. She'd have to get rid of these all as quickly as possible. If anyone saw just how much she had actually went through in the past three months or so....

 

She padded along in bare feet to the kitchen at the end of the hall. Turn and take a right and you're right next to the cupboard! Roxy opened it and stretched up, grabbed a black trash bag, and looped back to the bedroom, sweeping the (sometimes broken) bottles into it, tying it up in a bow, and hoisting it over her shoulder. She went through the kitchen once again, surveying it as she went. 

Chipped wooden cabinets, an old gas stove, black fridge covered in cat pictures. The cooking area curved around in the shape of an angular "U," separating it from the dining area. Which was really just a table in the corner. A counter was opposite to it, with a microwave and a stack of god knows what laying upon it.

Last but not least, there was a back door leading to a wooden porch and miniature garden. And a staircase. A staircase that led to the basement, where a bunch of her extra things were.

She lugged the bag out of the door, dragging it down the flight of stairs. Her second-floor neighbor (an old Slovakian man) came outside and yelled at her. She just smiled serenely at him.

"Hey, Jon." 

Roxy continued her descent, opening the (never locked) basement door and depositing her load under a stack of blankets. She went back up and chatted with Jon for a bit. Roxy liked Jon. He was old and rude, but he knew how the world worked. He gave her cookies from his granddaughters. She thanked him and went back upstairs, eating one as she turned on her little red vintage radio and hummed along to the song playing, beginning to clean.

Later on, she took some of her bottles out of the cabinets and hid those as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, if you find any errors, please please PLEASE tell me!!!
> 
> ALso, this is a filler more than anything. Sorry about that.


	4. Temporal Piano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blame this next chapter on theblackempress, she's forcing me to continue shitting this story out of every satanic orifice and onto the web
> 
> Dirk's POV.

Dirk woke to a slight vibration coursing through his cheek. He grumbled and blinked his heavily lidded eyes open slowly, once, then twice, slipping back into a shuteye despite his best efforts. He used his thumb to tap on the phone-- To press the little red button because now was not such a good time to talk. Seriously, who the  _fuck_ would call him now?

His thumb brushed along the screen and his phone stopped buzzing. Smiling slightly, the man drifted back into a semiconscious state, barely aware of a faint static sound accompanied shortly thereafter by a warped voice (usually quite recognizable by how positively _dapper_ it always sounded) with a heavy British accent. 

"Dir- Dirk, love? Are you there?"

 Dirk grumbled. Jake. Jake knew not to disturb him when he was sleeping.

"Dirk, please answer if you're there."

The half-asleep man muttered a string of profanities under his breath before nodding, realizing Jake couldn't _hear_ him nod and speaking in a low, irritated voice, "What, Jake? What could possibly be so fucking important that you have to call when I'm clearly busy with something?" He heard a sigh on the other line and recoiled. This was precisely the reason he didn't like it when Jake called early. He'd get pissed at him, yell...

"Look, I'm sorry, Jake. I'm tired and I just woke up.

"What's going on?"

The other voice spoke tentatively at first, then the words came out in a rush, too fast. "I just... wanted to call before you go. Granted, I know you'll still be able to talk while you're there, but I'm not sure what state Roxy really is in and I'm worried for you both and  _Dirk, love, she still has feelings for you_ and you  _know_ how I feel about that."

Dirk bit his lip, sitting up. "I know, Jake. It'll be fine. I'm just helping her get better."

There was a long, heavy sigh at the other end of the line. "If you say so, mate. Just... Be careful, alright? And please call me once you're there."

"Will do. Bye, Jake." Dirk hung up as Jake was mid-reply, more than a little annoyed at his boyfriend's lack of empathy towards Roxy. He was jealous, Dirk knew. They'd make it up to each other one day. Until then, however, he had other priorities to attend to. Dirk glanced at the time reading on the phone, then got dressed quickly and threw a few extra items in his bag, forgetting his passport on the way out and doubling back to fetch it.

He tossed the bag in the back seat of his silver Maxima and started the car, growling as the radio turned on automatically and then died almost immediately. Backing out of his apartment complex, he drove to a general store a few minutes away to pick up a few more items before heading southeast to a new chapter in his book.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry


	5. Pilot Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dirk's introspection as he drives.  
> Listen to [this](http://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/pilot-light)while reading c:

Dirk drove steadily, digits tapping out a disorganised rhythm on his steering wheel. He had turned off of a busy highway in order to take a long back road that wound through the countryside. It left more time for him to compose himself without fear of hitting another vehicle. He'd barely seen another person for miles. Not that he minded much. He'd always felt crowded in and trapped. Goodness knows he could use a bit of freedom, even if it was in the smallest dose offered.

The songs on his radio hummed quietly, not quite reaching his ears. They were old, and of a genre he didn't recognise. Uncommon, almost the polar opposite of pop. Not quite rock, but not alternative either. It was soothing, this false companionship of a distant singer. He turned the radio off, mentally yelling at himself for thinking that. Dirk was angry at himself. Striders don't rely on others. They take care of themselves, and help the other people around them if they can.

...Which brought him to more pressing matters. Dearest Roxy. To be perfectly honest with himself, he hadn't exactly paid enough attention to her. This he knew, and this he sometimes thought about late at night only to disregard in the morning. He did know that she still had feelings for him and felt bad that he could not return said feelings. But Dirk knew she was okay with that. She had always been very accepting of her friends, in both their choices and things that were beyond their control. She was eager to help, always. But lately she had seemed down, though she had always maintained an air of confidence and positivity. It wasn't something Dirk had commented on or really noted until her relapse.

How... How could he help? Should he just hold her hand and kind of pat her on the back as if he were directing a small child? No, no. That would be stupid and actually sort of cruel. Should he praise her when she didn't drink? No... How about getting rid of the liquor, removing a variable? He had a feeling it'd be best if he tried to help her so that she would do that on her own. The problem was, well, actually helping. Dirk was no good at any of this. He just wasn't. He'd never cared much for alcohol, never really understood the philia Roxy had for it. No, not philia. He knew she hated it, hated the way it made her. Addiction was a better word. The alcohol was a lethal drug.

Roxy was in a difficult position, he knew. Her mother gone, her living alone off of the steadily dwindling supply of cash left behind. She had been working on a patent a few years back, Dirk remembered. She had asked his help a few times but he was always busy. Eventually she just stopped asking and never brought it up again. Now he was feeling guilty. He was the closest living to her, he should have done something sooner. But not once in the past two years had he gone to visit even once. He was surprised he still remembered the directions, however vaguely.

Dirk blinked out of his introspection and scanned the road for signs alerting him to where he was. With a sigh, he realised he had gone too far and made a U-turn, driving back in the opposite direction for a few miles before turning onto another road that would bring him closer to the person that needed him now.

 _...That was a douchebag thought_ , he noted, and brushed his muses from his mind, concentrating on the road ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so i actually updated for once... heh


	6. Here Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eee regular-ish updates now  
> so how about that canon update yo

It was hard to find her apartment. It wasn't as though it was a particularly daunting task, just that the area where Roxy lived was crowded in itself; narrow streets weaving a maze of avenues and alleys that turned around and around with similar-looking buildings of no landmark use were no help to Dirk at all. Eventually he spotted the apartment building, nestled between two big brother structures. He slowed his Maxima and parked it across the street, its brakes screeching the car to a halt. He frowned at this and climbed out of the car into the brisk night air, zipping up his jacket and crossing the street. Dirk checked again to make sure the address (413 Skaia Road) was correct, an unease starting to grow in the pit of his stomach. A pair of small, beady eyes watched him from a dirty window and as soon as he met the owner's gaze, the curtains closed sharply. Dirk gave a small shrug and entered the building, noting the dark red carpet stained and trampled leading up a flight of steep stairs. He traversed these after realising that the call bell was broken.

Dirk stood at the door, hesitating for a few heavy seconds before knocking on the door a bit too forcefully, its reverberations ominous in his ears. He knocked a few additional times, force more calculated now. It seemed like no one was coming to the door, and then he heard a clatter and what sounded like a small polycephalous animal of questionable health devouring a weighted cube only to vomit it back up again. Then there was the sound of a large, dead creature being dragged, a door unlocking; and suddenly a slouching blonde girl stood in the doorway, small smirk beginning to form as she glanced up at him.  
  
"Sorry, I dropped the tea kettle," she laughed, and Dirk was relieved to find that she was completely lucid.

Without saying a word, he pulled her into a hug, voice quieter than he'd intended as he whispered, "I'm here now."

Roxy hugged back tightly and the hug ended abruptly. She led him into the kitchen where she boiled water in the now dented and probably hazardous kettle, making two cups of something strong and sweet-tasting. He sipped it and gave a thumbs-up, though it was a bit too flowery for him. Roxy seemed happy at this and offered to help him with his bags. They went out to his car to fetch them and hauled them inside ("What did you pack in here, rocks?"), Roxy slapping her forehead dramatically upon realising that she didn't have a place for Dirk to stay. He offered to sleep on the couch and she looked guilty as she agreed to that. They set up his makeshift bed and bid each other goodnight.

He was deep in thought, pondering over all that had happened, all that was going to happen, and all that was happening. Roxy's state, how Jake was doing. Would Jake be upset with him? What if they broke up over this? Oh, but they had been talking about visiting each other! How was Jane doing? Oh, oh _shit_.

Dirk lay awake for a long time thinking.


	7. Ataraxy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dirk and Roxy get used to each other's presence.  
> please don't kill me i'm sorry i took so long to update  
> also [cobalt thief](http://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/cobalt-thief) really fits this chapter go listen to it

Days passed by in a fog, the duo drifting lazily like dust particles visible through the afternoon sun filtered in a stained-glass mosaic. Life was content to sit and preen as she waited for the sea smoke to settle completely on the friends, turning them once again into innocent and unwary prey for her to swoop down upon in a fit of disquiet. How alike humans were to bumbling fawns, doe-eyed and curious, and unaware of the dangers of other creatures watching just beyond the edge of the clearing. As they grew older, they would learn to seek safe havens, hidden grottoes in which to refuge away from hunters' eyes. 

It was a pillow fort. Not just a halfhearted and haphazardly constructed two-cushion fort with a blanket stretched limply between two chairs, but a proper Fort Knox. It took up the entire living room, old couch pushed in to meet with chairs and tables. Blankets and varying yardages of fleece were pinned neatly over cushions, creating tunnels that led to a circular centre structure made from an old mattress and many pillows. It looked a bit like a demented igloo crossed with an Aragog-sized spider, complete with a cardboard sign taped to one of the entrances that read, "Fort Kringlefucker" in a hasty scrawl.

A hand lay upturned on a cushion, digits curled in slightly. The length of the arm in which it belonged to disappeared around a bend, both in an elbow and in the structure. Turning the corner, one could see a snapshot of life worthy of hanging in an art museum.

They were nestled up next to each other, curled safely in each other's arms. They both seemed so soft and delicate, porcelain features safeguarded under a protection of blankets to keep the demons at bay. Dirk's form seemed to shelter Roxy, enveloping her in his warmth and safety. She, in turn, seemed to do the same to him. In this moment, it was as if Chaos and Harmony had decided to call a temporary truce and sat sipping tea together, watching the universe shatter and rebuild in the night sky. A tragic and endless cycle of events, yes, but if it meant that moments like these could exist, however sparing they were, wasn't it worth it?

Night dragged on and stars danced across their shadowy canvas, painting pictures of lions and archers and glory named eons ago by long-dead civilisations. And under the watchful gaze of beings far across the void, two young fawns slept peacefully, dreaming of friendship and martini glasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if yall bug me about it on my tumblr i might update faster in the future mby  
> comments are always appreciated!
> 
> also im craving physical contact right now and i'm kinda rolling in my own muck of unfulfilled emotional needs and just ugh  
> its so hard being a feelsy asexual who wants aro physical relationships  
> i just wanna be loved by ppl ;w;


	8. Noumenon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for drinking and a little bit of violence  
> :( i have a lot of feelings right now okay  
> hey but i updated two days in a row (i think)! can you believe it??

"Roxy, what are you doing?  
"Roxy, put the bottle down. Put it down.  
"Roxy."

You looked up at Dirk. He seemed kind of cute, his cheeks puffed and reddened slightly, his fists curled at his sides. Like one of those chibis from the mangas that he always watched. Dirk was a little kid, unused to the adult ways of liquor and drug. Maybe if you could just show him how great it was, he'd stop asking questions. Yeah, maybe. You took another sip of your drink, continuing to stare at him coolly. He paused for a second, and then spoke again.

"Put it down. Now." 

Again, you peered at him curiously, before raising the bottle of ale and taking another swig. "Yule be a lot be'er about gettin' people to do what ya want if you weren't so rude about it, Di-Stri," you replied. He tensed at this, and in less than a blink he had flashstepped towards you, knocking the bottle out of your hands and to the floor. You looked down slowly, watching as blood pooled from a cut in your palm, forming a small lake among skin. 

"Wha'ed you do that for, Dirky? Imma need a bandaid!" You let out a snort of laughter at this, slapping your bare thigh for comical effect. Now there was a cool red tattoo on your leg.

He seemed kind of scared. "Roxy, please. I'm trying to help you. Let's go get you cleaned up."

You pouted at this, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Fine, but can we see a movie afferwerds?" You hoped you could. He was being so mean to you, the least he could do was take you to see a film, right? You deserved it! You had worked hard so that he could come live with you. It wasn't your problem that he had forced you to let him stay, but he'd better be fucking grateful that you decided to be nice about it.

Dirk made a small, agitated noise, responding, "No, we can't go see a fucking movie. You're drunk off your ass. You're not going out in public like this."

You were angry now. "What are you, my mom?! Wait, no. Ya couldn't be, because she's fuggin' dead!" You jumped off the counter and dashed away into your bedroom, locking the door and burying your face in a pillow so no one could hear your sobs or see your tears.

\---

He knocked on the door a little while later and you shouted for him to go away. You heard him slide to the floor on the other side of your door, and refuse with a simple, "No."

Eventually, you got up and unlocked the door, staring down at him. He wordlessly handed you a glass of water, watching as you swallowed it down. There was a heavy pause after that, and it hung like a hot, wet blanket over you both.

He stood up, and you spoke first.

"Look, I'm sorry. I jus'... I dunno." 

"It's okay. I was worried. I'm sorry that I was out, and that I came from the grocery store too late."

"'S my fault," you murmured, and shifted slightly to one side. "Can we jus', um..."

"Just what?"

"Can we watch a movie, maybe...?" you asked, and bit your lip. 

"Of course," he said, and he smiled tiredly, grabbing your unbandaged hand and leading you into the living room. You ended up watching a silly romcom, which wasn't the genre either of you liked, but it was a good distraction nonetheless. You curled around him on the couch and fell asleep with your head on his shoulder before the movie was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i kinda  
> i dunno  
> i just feel really sad right now and i really need some hugs
> 
> on another note, if you haven't followed me on [tumblr](http://asteroidprince.tumblr.com), you totally should.  
> fuel my ego and share this fic with friends


	9. Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look i updated again!  
> [listentothis](http://homestuck.bandcamp.com/track/sunrise)

The canvas of night had been replaced with one of dawn, the first traces of violet hovering just on the edge of the horizon. Gray clouds passed, their monochrome slowly replaced by pastel brushstrokes of the sun. The entire sky seemed in this one moment more whole than the bright, faded sky of day and the dark, callous sweeps of night combined. Deep blues and grays melted into dusky purple, which expanded into a sheet of rose.

Dirk and Roxy sat on the roof of the apartment complex, hands clasped together. They didn't try to speak, the effect of this one sunrise clearly evident by both of their expressions. Dirk's shades lay strewn to the side, Roxy's newest scarf trailing half-finished behind her. There seemed to be a shine on their faces, as if they were painted into life and the pigment was not yet dry. They looked skywards together, Roxy squeezing Dirk's hand and Dirk squeezing back.

Her hand was wrapped in a new bandage, and the clean, white gauze sharply contrasted her disheveled appearance. Dirk, too, looked for once, imperfect. He had always paid so much attention to appearances, but his hair was matted and his face marked with lines of sleep. Yet, they seemed content like this, watching the world funnel from night into day.

There was still a long way to go before either of them would finally be okay, but the improvement was already showing for them both. And so they smiled as they looked onward at the pink and orange sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone pls come to my house and bake food and watch movies with me i really need platonic affection atm  
> i need love  
> srsly pls
> 
> Also, if you haven't followed me yet, do so [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ)  
> 


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